


Kink #11

by Perfica



Series: The Kink Series [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-11
Updated: 2005-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfica/pseuds/Perfica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kink #11

Harry winced as he shifted slightly, trying to sit comfortably on the edge of the bed. He cradled his injured left arm carefully against his side, blowing out a sigh of resignation that briefly lifted the sweaty strands of hair that lay against his forehead.

Through the open infirmary window, he could hear the celebratory sounds of happy Gryffindors as they made their way back from the pitch and wished he too were one of the crowd; jostling good-naturedly up the moving staircases, watching as Colin or another excited fan replaying the game-winning move for the benefit of a crowd that had been at the same game, but were still happy to relive their victory, chuckling around the mouth of a bottle of Butterbeer as Ron beamed back at him, Hermione trying not to show how impressed she was.

He sighed again. How much longer did he have to wait? It was a simple sprain, that's all it could be. After he'd snatched the Snitch out of the Ravenclaw's seekers greedy grasp, he'd twisted mid-flight - too fast, too steep, and landed heavily on his face, his arm trapped beneath him. Luckily. If Harry had had the time, he may have tried to brace himself for impact, and that would have caused the bone to snap like a dry twig, rather than pulsate with swelling muscles and heavy bruising.

The curtains surrounding his bed twitched open. Good. Pomfrey could cast a few spells and he’d be back to full health in no time.

Professor Severus Snape pushed through the barrier, grimacing as he twitched the curtains closed and cast a spell guaranteeing their privacy.

“Potter.”

“Snape?”

“Professor Snape, you imbecile, and what seems to be the problem here?” Snape’s pale face was twisted in an expression of sarcastic glee.

“Uh, what do you - , where’s Madame Pomfrey?”

“Madame Pomfrey is busy attending to students whose needs far outweigh yours. Well? Speak. I don’t have all afternoon.” Snape stared disgustedly down at him.

“I’m not telling you anything! I don’t – “

“Mister Potter,” Snape said, his voice low and not at all soothing. “Let me assure you that I have every right to be here, and your injuries are not out of my realm of experience. All teachers at Hogwarts are trained in basic first aid spells, and since you don’t appear to be bleeding to death, screaming in pain, or suffering anymore than usual from any number of disfiguring curses, I suggest you get on with it. My shift will not end for another four hours, so unless you wish to remain in pain whilst waiting for Madame Pomfrey’s soothing touch?” He trailed off, obviously enjoying Harry’s discomfort.

Harry grimaced. As much as he’d love to tell Snape to stick his offer of help up his arse, he really had better things to do than sit around all afternoon in pain. He hadn’t seen Pomfrey around when he’d walked into the Infirmary, so Snape could actually be telling the truth.

“All right,” he said, begrudgingly. “I’ll let you fix it.”

“How kind of you,” Snape sneered. He flourished his wand in a complicated pattern down his chest, transforming his dull, black robes into a gleaming, pristine white coat. He performed a simple cleaning spell on his hands and said, “Show me the afflicted organ.”

Harry moved his right hand, pulling his injured arm away from his body slightly. He repressed the urge to laugh hysterically as Snape bent over and peered at it carefully, all the while making ‘Hmm’ noises under his breath.

“Professor – “ Harry said, biting the inside of his mouth.

“Shut up, Potter,” Snape said, touching the end of his wand to Harry’s elbow. “ _Manifesto vulnus_.”

He ran the tip of his wand slowly up the injured forearm, and Harry watched as the muscles in his arm contracted away from the stimulus. Harry gasped. “Be still.”

Snape stepped closer, his free hand bracing Harry’s shoulder. His wand tip eventually pressed into the centre of the palm, causing Harry’s fingers to curl gracefully around it. Harry looked up. Snape was very close to his face. “Does it hurt, Potter?”

“Yes,” he stammered.

“Good. Very good,” Snape murmured, whispering a spell under his breath that made Harry’s hand relax.

Harry felt a soothing warmth run up to his shoulder, tickling his tight muscles, relaxing the strain. The heat rebounded at the top, raced down his arm again and centred on the worst part of his arm. He felt a powerful ball of energy burst, and almost immediately he was free from pain.

“Wow,” Harry said, shaking his arm slowly, then with more confidence. “Wow. It’s all better. It feels great.”

“I’m pleased to have been of service,” Snape said, his fingers tightening over Harry’s collarbone. “Is there anything else? Another injury that needs to be healed?”

“No,” Harry flushed, squirming slightly. “I fell on this arm, but the impact - “

“You fell rather forcefully. I was at the match.”

“Yeah, but you’ve fixed it now so . . . “

“I believe other diagnostic tests need to be undertaken to ensure you have no hidden injuries. Stand up.”

“I’m fine,” Harry protested, trying to pull away.

Snape’s hand curled around the base of his throat. “That still remains to be determined. Stand up. I won’t ask you again.”

Snape’s hand dropped away from him. Harry stared at the floor as he stood up in the small amount of space left between the bed and Snape’s body. He self-consciously tugged at the back of his gown, making sure he was as decently covered as possible.

He flinched as Snape ran his wand along the edge of his jaw, dropping into the hollow at the base of his throat, passing back and forth over his collarbones before moving down his sternum, pushing slightly into top of his stomach.

“Does this hurt?” Snape asked softly.

“No,” Harry replied, unable to raise his voice to protest.

“What about here?” he said, rolling the length of his wand down over the lower part of Harry’s belly.

“No.”

“Here?” The wand rolled slowly up the other side.

Harry cleared his throat. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Snape’s eyes gleamed. “We can’t be too sure, can we? Turn around,” he demanded, straightening up and stepping back.

Harry cast a longing look at the curtains, wishing that Pomfrey didn’t have anyone else to attend to. He cleared his throat again and squared his shoulders, facing his bed and ignoring the fact that his gown was gaping at the back, revealing his arse in all its glory. He stared at a small square of sunlight shining on a patch of floor as he felt Snape’s breath against the back of his neck.

“Very good, Potter. Now don’t move.”

Snape’s hands were warm and dry as they moved against his sides, fingers digging into his stomach and palpitating flesh carefully. They curved around his body, meeting in the middle. Snape’s palm pressed into Harry’s belly button.

“You may have suffered some internal damage during your fall. Does anything feel swollen?”

Harry bit back a bark of laughter. “No. It’s fine. Really, Snape, I don’t – “

“What about here?” Snape asked, as one hand dropped down lower, sliding along the crease where Harry’s thigh and groin met. “Any pain?”

“No! I’m not – “

“Nor this side?”

Harry felt his face beginning to burn. He looked down and saw Snape’s long fingers framing his crotch, thumbs digging in painfully. “Snape – “

“I think further exploration is required. Bend over.”

“What?”

Harry’s face hit the bed as Snape unceremoniously pushed him down. Before he knew it, his gown had been thrown up over his back and his thighs pushed opened. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Surely you’ve been checked for hernias before, Potter? If not here, then during your Muggle schooling.”

Harry had memories of grim-faced nurses from National Health vaccinating him over the years, and the time his vision had been checked and found to be wanting, but at no time had the tests been so…hands on.

Harry heard the snap of rubber being stretched and released. “I really don’t think – “

“Any feelings of unusual fullness? Trouble urinating? Achieving erections?”

“Hey! You can’t – “

“Just relax, Potter. This won’t hurt a bit.”

Harry grunted as he felt a cool, slick finger move up between his cheeks. He sunk into the mattress, not really believing Snape would go all the way with this charade. There was no way the Professor would –

Oh yes there was.

Snape’s finger eased into him carefully, wiggling slightly as it pushed forward. Harry felt himself clench around the sensation, face burning scarlet as he imagined what he must look like. He tried to move his ankles, but Snape’s feet were pressed against them, locking his legs into position.

The long, lubed finger was fully inside him. It stroked carefully, pushing against muscular walls as if searching for something.

“Professor – “

“Yes, that’s it, Potter. Just relax.” Snape’s voice was heavy and soothing, unusually calm. “Relax. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Harry gasped as the finger moved over his prostate gland, shivers of sexual pleasure running up his spine. “You’d better not . . . “

“That’s it, Potter. Just there.”

Snape’s finger continued to rub and caress, building up ribbons of excitement that were causing Harry’s legs to weaken.

“Professor. Please.”

“Yes,” Snape hissed, pushing down as Harry pushed back, groaning as his orgasm exploded out of him. Harry bit his lip, trying not to whimper as Snape ruthlessly continued to rub, drawing out the sensations.

Harry’s breathing eventually slowed. He wiped his forehead on the scratchy blanket covering the bed, grimacing as he felt a cool slickness sticking the gown to his stomach. “Shit. That was – “

A muffled thump was heard from behind. Snape quickly and carefully removed his finger, casting a cleansing spell over Harry’s bent form.

“Stand up. Quickly.”

Harry did so, turning as Snape transfigured his hospital gown back into his usual daytime robes, and the clean laboratory coat into dusty, dull black ones. “Ready?”

Harry nodded.

Snape twirled, restored robes moving gracefully around him as he removed their privacy spells.

“ – THINK YOU ARE, BUT – Oh. Professor Snape? Mister Potter? What is the meaning of this?”

“My apologies, Poppy, but Potter expressed an interest in visiting some of his old school haunts. I must have inadvertently locked you out.”

Pomfrey’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Harry did his best to look innocent.

“I really am sorry, Madame Pomfrey. It’s all my fault. I was visiting Professor Snape and - “

“Oh, don’t bother,” Pomfrey cut in. “I’ve got too much to do and not enough time to do it. I take it you can see yourselves out, gentlemen?”

Harry nodded furiously, while Snape ducked his head once, a small, satisfied grin appearing on his face. As Pomfrey stormed off, Snape’s dark eyes lit up in amusement. “Well, Mister Potter?”

“I take it back,” Harry said, chuckling as he pressed a quick kiss into Snape’s jaw. “You do know how to play ‘Doctors and Nurses.’”


End file.
